


Days 3, 4, and 8

by marvel_onomus



Series: A month of whump 2020 [3]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: F/M, Hurt Michelle Jones, Irondad, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker Whump, Protective Michelle Jones, Protective Peter Parker, Protective Tony Stark, Whump, amow 2020, whumpmonth 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-03
Updated: 2020-05-03
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:55:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23986393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marvel_onomus/pseuds/marvel_onomus
Summary: “Kid? What’s wrong, are you hurt?”Peter didn’t respond for a minute, and Tony opened his mouth to ask again, but then Peter cut him off, his voice shaking.“Mr. Stark, they- someone-“ Peter paused, his voice breaking as he finished the sentence- “they- they took MJ.”
Relationships: Michelle Jones/Peter Parker, Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Series: A month of whump 2020 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1729459
Comments: 2
Kudos: 55





	1. Stolen

**Author's Note:**

> Hi y'all! This was written for the month of whump challenge that can be found on my tumblr @marvel-ous-shitposts under the tags #whumpmonth 2020, and #amow 2020. I wrote them in April, and am posting them here now that they're all finished.  
> These chapters were written for separate days and prompts but are the same story.

Tony picked up the call on the third ring. He’d been distracted the first, twirling Morgan around the kitchen with his good arm. It took him another to grab his phone off the table and see the caller.  
Peter Parker didn’t call much, or at least, not as much as Tony would’ve liked. And more often than not, a call from the kid meant he was hurt or in trouble, although even those calls were dwindling.   
Tony picked up the phone, handing Morgan off to Pepper as he pressed accept call.  
“Mr. Stark,”   
Tony froze. Peter was crying, sobbing from the sound of it, each sniff and hitched breath sending ice through Tony’s veins.   
“Kid? What’s wrong, are you hurt?”   
Peter didn’t respond for a minute, and Tony opened his mouth to ask again, but then Peter cut him off, his voice shaking.  
“Mr. Stark, they- someone-“ Peter paused, his voice breaking as he finished the sentence- “they- they took MJ.”   
Tony hated the relief that flooded through him, though the feeling was quickly replaced again by concern. He took a deep breath before replying. “It’ll be okay kid, we’ll find her, she’ll be okay.”   
Peter didn’t say anything, the only sound from his end of the line was his shuddering cries.   
“Just hold tight kid, I’ll come and get you.” 

It only took Tony 20 minutes to get to Peter’s apartment.  
The kid looked wrecked. He was sitting on the floor, his back pressed to the wall, staring at nothing. His eyes were rimmed with red, circled with puffy purple, his cheeks stained with tear tracks.   
“Pete,” Tony said softly, as though Peter were a wild fawn that Tony didn’t want to spook. Peter didn’t say anything, so Tony tried again, reaching out his hand slowly to tap Peter’s shoulder.  
“Kid?”   
Peter blinked, then turned to Tony, as if he’d just processed that he was there. Tony could almost see the gears turning in Peter’s head as the kid struggled to keep his composure.   
“Mr. Stark, I-“ the already shaky veneer of calm broke, and Peter didn’t bother trying to put it back- “we were- we were in some stupid fight and she- and she left and-“   
A sob cut through Peter’s voice. Tony just pulled the kid closer to him in a tight hug.  
“They- they sent me a video- Mr. Stark, she-“ Peter trembled, and Tony held him for another second before pulling away.   
“Can I see it, kid? We might be able to use it.”   
Peter just nodded, steadily getting up to get his laptop. Then he pressed play. 

_MJ was bound to a chair, glaring at someone not in view. Her left eye showed the beginnings of a shiner, but that was the only visible damage._   
_Despite the steel in her glare, Tony could still see that she was scared._   
_“Spider-Man,” an off-camera voice said, “you’ve been meddling in things you don’t understand. So consider this a warning to mind your own business. Would be a shame if anything were to happen to your pretty little girlfriend.”_   
_MJ shook her head, the motion barely perceptible. The video cut to black._

Tony barely noticed the tears on his own face as he held Peter next to him.   
“We’ll find her, kid. We’ll find her.” 


	2. Angry

MJ couldn’t remember why she had been angry.   
Well, to be clear, she remembered what they had been fighting about- if she hadn’t, the black eye she was sporting would’ve been the least of her worries- but she couldn’t remember why she’d been _angry_.   
It was just so stupid, a whole myriad of stupid, really: Peter was going to ESU in two months, Gwen, Peter’s lab partner from the summer internship at Oscorp, seemed to be getting just a little too familiar for MJ’s liking, and then Peter had been 15 minutes late picking her up for their date.   
MJ didn’t even need her Introduction to Psychology summer-reading book to know that those reasons spelled out insecure with a capital I. And still, she’d gotten angry.   
And then she’d gone and gotten kidnapped.   
She mulled it all over as she sat, arms and legs tied to the back of a chair and duct tape uncomfortably stretched over her mouth. It hadn’t been that long since they grabbed her, and since then they had just left her alone.   
Of course, even just thinking it jinxed her, and the door in front of her slammed open, making her jump.   
A stout, middle-aged man with a weirdly shaped forehead walked in holding a camera set, followed by two other men.   
Weird-forehead man smiled viciously at her as he set up the camera. “Sorry about this, sweetheart, we just needed some bait to catch a spider.”   
MJ’s heart thudded painfully in her chest. This was a trap for Peter.  
Forehead man fiddled with the camera for a few more seconds, then turned his attention back to MJ. “Now, I’d rather not hurt a lady, so be a good girl and keep quiet, will you?” He leaned forward so his face was inches from hers. “See Lonnie over there? If you try to say anything to your pesky boyfriend, he will not hesitate to shoot you.”   
MJ just glared at him, masking the fear in her gut with anger. Forehead man tilted MJ’s chin up with his finger and smiled.   
“Good.”   
He pulled away from her, and a tiny bit of relief slid into her bones as he turned his gaze back to the camera.   
He pressed record and started into a spiel about Spider-Man and a warning. MJ glared daggers at him as he spoke, wishing that looks could kill. Her eyes flitted to the camera for a second, then to the guy that forehead man said would shoot her. Trying to imbue as much meaning as she could into her expression, she tilted her head ever so slightly to one side, then the other.   
-it’s a trap, it’s a trap, it’s a trap-  
Forehead man clicked the camera button to stop recording. He beckoned to the other man, who slid a hidden panel on the floor a few feet in front of where MJ was tied.  
She had never seen a bomb before, but she didn’t have to in order to know that was what had been hidden there. The man tinkered with some of the wires before sliding the panel back over it.   
And then they walked out of the room.  
  
The waiting was the worst part.   
MJ had lost track of time, her heart rate spiking every time she thought she heard footsteps. She knew it could only have been a couple of hours, but time seemed to have lapsed into eternity.  
She must’ve passed out because the next thing she knew was Peter’s voice calling her name.   
Her head snapped up. His voice was getting closer.   
_“No,”_ she tried to say, tried to _scream_ , but the tape over her mouth muffled it to a pathetic cry.   
“MJ?” Peter’s voice was so close, too close.   
_“No,”_ she said again, tears rolling unprompted down her face.   
The door swung open.   
“MJ-“ Peter exclaimed, and the relief in his voice tore at her gut. She shook her head wildly, uselessly trying to scream at him to get out.  
Time slowed to a standstill as Peter took a step towards her. His foot had barely touched the ground when he sensed it- his head flew up, eyes wide- then he launched himself towards her, protecting her, shielding her.   
And then the world exploded. 


	3. Bloodied

MJ came-to to an incessant, whining pitch in her ears.   
She blinked her eyes open, her mind scrambling to put together the pieces, the kidnapping, the bomb, Peter.   
_Oh god, Peter._  
He was on the floor in front of her, his legs trapped in a sizable chunk of debris. He wasn’t moving.   
Her veins filling with ice, MJ wiggled forward. The explosion had broken the chair, freeing her, but she was pretty sure it had also broken her arm.  
With her good arm, she pushed herself up, then ripped off the duct tape that had been covering her mouth. She stumbled towards Peter, all but collapsing beside him. As gently as she could, she shook his shoulder.  
“Peter, please.” The plea escaped her, unbidden, “please wake up.”  
Her ears were still ringing, but she thought she heard footsteps outside the collapsed ruins of the room. Not turning her attention away from Peter, she called out, hope and fear twisting in her chest.  
“Help, please, we’re in here!”   
The footsteps grew louder and closer together. MJ opened her mouth to call out again but was cut off by the familiar shape of Iron Man. She glanced up from Peter, her eyes pleading.   
The suit’s helmet retracted, and in Tony Stark’s eyes, MJ saw unadulterated fear.  
“MJ?- What-“ He couldn’t seem to finish the sentence, instead starting towards them. He checked Peter’s pulse as MJ sobbed.   
“It was a trap-“ her breath hitched, cutting her off, “is he-“  
Stark shook his head, the relief evident on his face. “He’s just unconscious.” He turned to the chunk of ceiling that was pinning Peter’s legs. “FRIDAY? Is it safe to move him?”  
MJ missed the AI’s response through her blubbering tears, but she must’ve said yes, because the next thing she knew, Stark was lifting the debris off Peter’s legs. She startled when he turned to her.  
“Are you hurt?”  
“I’m-“ she started to say fine, the question catching her off guard, but stopped herself, “arm.” She carefully lifted the arm she suspected was broken. “And my head.”   
He nodded, cautiously scooping Peter up. “Do you think you can walk?”  
She nodded back, pushing herself up to her feet beside him.   
“Alright, follow me.”


End file.
